Medical Condition
by Melethiel
Summary: Something is happening to Tony that he can't control. It's endangering his job, his safety, and his freedom. What changes will he have to make to his life due to this? How will the rest of the team react? Rating for safety. May have action later.
1. Kate and Marshmellows

A/N: Hello! This is my first NCIS fic! Yay! All this medical stuff that's gonna happen I take either from research or experience, so it's pretty accurate. Although it happened to a 15 year old girl and not a 32 year old man (and this sort of thing is more common is adolecents, I think, so I'm not sure how plausible it is him getting this. I think it's still possible, though – I seem to recall reading about it somewhere). Oh, and here in Australia, Kate lives! So she's here in this story! I do have the second chapter ready to go, but I'm going to see how this goes down first – if you guys don't like it, I might take it down and not bother posting the second chapter.

Oh, and kudos and a chocolate chip cookie to anyone who guesses what he's got! Although it's a bit early to tell (unless you have it or are a doctor). And you can't guess if you know me!

Disclaimer: Yes. I, a fifteen year old girl whose mum still decides what I wear, watch and listen to and dad inforces a strict bedtime of 9 pm as well as a 1 hour time limit on the computer (and absolutely _no dating_), own a popular crime television show, earning me more money than both my parents put together.

* * *

The office buzzed with life, the quiet mutterings and humming of machines providing a nice distraction from work, most people opting for light conversation as they listened to the rain pounding the windows, laughing at people who had been caught out there. The room seemed a nicer, warmer place than usual. Outside, the storm raged, the blistering cold battering against the building, trying to reach its occupants, but immediately becoming void as it hit a wave of heat. Heaters were turned up, making the room humid and muggy, steaming mugs or styrofoam cups were situated on every desk, and everyone was bundled up. 

Some more so than others.

"Tony, what do you think you're doing?"

'Special' Agent Anthony Dinozzo tugged at the heavy blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and curled further under his desk.

"I'm warming myself up, Kate, it's what you do when you get cold."

Kate towered over him, a mug of hot chocolate in her hand, and eyed him dubiously.

"Do you really need so many blankets? You look hot. In a completely non-sexual way."

"Yes, I do need so many blankets. And I am hot. In a completely sexual way."

"Maybe to a pitbull, and even then, I'd think you'd be judged as luke-warm."

Stalking away before he could give a reply, she sat at her desk and began to type. One of the only ones in the room who was bothering to do work today, she figured that if she could get some of her paperwork done today, it would mean a early departure tomorrow. She could go home, curl up on the couch all by herself, and watch _Sleepless in Seattle_ for the fifty billionth time. She stopped typing and glanced at Tony, who had acquired a hot chocolate from somewhere, and was currently seeing if it would aid him in his attempt to swallow a marshmallow whole, as she realized something.

Her work colleagues were the only friends she had.

"Hey, see something you like, Katie?"

And that scared her beyond belief.

* * *

Tony was feeling a bit light-headed today. It was probably the weather – this heat and humidity in the office and the sharp, biting, blistering cold outside – it was messing with his head, he was sure of it. 

Popping another marshmallow into his mouth (a white one – he avoided the pink ones at all costs), he chewed lazily, trying to think. One may not know it by looking at him, but when Anthony got bored, he liked to think. Sometimes it would be on practical things, like who most likely killed Lt.'s Jacobs and Banks, between Bank's landlord and Jacob's mum-in-law. Other times, it would be on fanciful daydreams, like what he would do with a million dollars, how he could get the most money out of a dinasour (should I bring it to a museum, or a circus?), or what he would do on his next date with his latest girlfriend. Right now, he was coming up with various excuses he could tell Gibbs the next time he was late, hopefully getting him out of coffee duty.

Practical and fanciful.

Tony immersed himself in deep thought, trying to imagine what everyone would say to his various excuses, and which one would get the best laugh.

Gradually, as he thought more and more, he began to feel as if his mind was floating away. He had no more control over his thoughts, his voice, his body… and yet he felt strangely calm. His mind was blissfully blank.

"Tony? Tony, are you listening?"

"Huh?"

His head lolled up, confusedgreen eyes peeking through his brown fringe as his mind was eased, mismached and jumbled up, back into his skull.

Kate sighed. She had been trying to get his attention for the past minute. And she hadn't exactally been subtle about it either. He could be really clueless sometimes.

"Gibbs is in autopsy – he wants us to join him A.S.A.P."

Tony shook his head violently to clear it, and stood up, nodding to Kate, feeling a bit too sluggish to make a comment. Together they headed for the elevator, blankets and hot chocolate abandoned.

"What was that you said before?"

"What?"

Kate looked at Tony as he pressed the down button – keeping his finger on it for about 10 seconds.

"You said something about apples."

Now it was Tony's turn to stare at Kate.

"Apples? When?"

"Yes, 'apples'. A minute or two ago when you were curled under your desk like a giant rat."

"I didn't say anything." He quickly mentally backtracked to his time in his makeshift den. "Why would I say anything – I was thinking about – I was thinking about…" Why couldn't he remember what he had been thinking about? Kate looked at him expectantly.

The lift arrived and two female agents got out.

"Women!"

Everyone within a five metre radius of the man stopped what they were doing in order to stare at him, as the two female agents scuttled off to report sexual harassment.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking of! Chicks!" Tony practically yelled as he and Kate (who looked like she either wanted to die or shove her gun in his mouth) entered the elevator.

"Fine, whatever makes you happy, Tony. Although I don't see what apples have to do with your sex life."

Tony quickly decided that he had to make up some story so she wouldn't think him an airhead.

"Well, you see the apple is actually a very sexual fruit. Remember Adam and Eve?"

Kate quickly decided that he was a airhead.

* * *

Please review, if you have the time. If you have any suggestions, I'd be glad to hear them. Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! 


	2. Abby and Escalators

A/N: Okay, I'm impatient. I just had to get the second chapter up! (I've already written the third chapter, too!) It starts to get a little more serious in the third chapter, and the fourth chapter is when it really gets bad, so don't bail on me because nothing too serious has happened yet. This chapter isn't as detailed as the last one, and it's a bit shorter, but I wanted to concentrate more on their conversation than the surroundings this time. And yes, for a short period of time, I was afraid of escalators.

**Karieflybabe** – Don't worry, it's nothing life-threatening… Yet. grins evilly

**Rinne** – Thanks, you have no idea what your comment means to me! Hopefully, by the time I'm 40, I'll be able to publish a book :D

**bailymay** – Yeah, the eyes. (bashes head into keyboard) I can't believe I got the eye colour wrong! Thanks, I'll remember for future reference.

**lissa-bhw** – Yeah, it's kinda sad, but I wanted to give the idea that she throws herself into her work so much until one day she wakes up and realises that she has no social life (note the working while everyone else is socialising). It's a bit early, but it should get blatantly obvious in Chapter 4. Good job for at least having a think about it, though!

**jewelbaby** – Couldn't wait to write more!

**LaurieBeth** – Thanks, I hope I don't disappoint you!

**sabrina** – Glad you enjoyed it – and thank you so much for reviewing my other story!

**MacCartney** – Oooh, good guess. But the cold is from the temperature of the day – he was just rugging up in a fun way (I've done it before, lots of fun). Sorry, I should have clarified that. Hopefully this chapter is clearer. Kudos to you for guessing! (hands you a lollipop)

**LenaLocket** – No, none of them are right, but you gave it a good shot! (hands you a lollipop) I'm beginning to think I didn't write the symptoms clearly enough – don't worry it'll get clearer as time goes on. It's just a really hard condition to write about accurately.

**DinozzoFan** – I live in NSW, but I've been to Victoria. Had a terrific time there. I've seen you and hikarisailorcat around the site – I love your username, by the way!

**hikarisailorcat** – Ooh, closest so far! (hands you two lollipops) But it's not as deadly. It's more… one of the symptoms of a brain tumor? But it stands as a condition on it's own… Bet I've got you confused now!

**shirik** – Gah! I'm really bad at writing symptoms! Alright, he has no fever, but he does forget and does behave strangely. Not your fault – hopefully this chapter is better.

* * *

"I always get them mixed up – is it escalator or elevator?" 

Abby listened with some amusement to Tony's ramblings as she ran some prints through the military database. Tony often came down to the lab to chat when work was slow, or he just wanted some 'interesting conversation'. (At least, that's what he told Abby. Of course, he hadn't known that both Kate and McGee were behind him at the time.) He had stationed himself on top of a desk, after providing Abby with a sufficient offering in exchange for conversation – Caff-Pow.

"Isn't elevator the one that gave me nightmares?"

"You got nightmares because of those things?"

"I'm trying to figure out if I did – I either got nightmares, or the burning desire to press every button I saw."

"I stuck gum on them and watched people get their fingers all sticky."

"Escalator buttons?"

"Elevator buttons."

Tony groaned. "Man, I can never remember these things!"

"Don't worry. Someday, when you're older, and a lot maturer, you will be able to differentiate between the two."

"Fine. From now on I'm calling them 'The Scary One' and 'The Boxy One'."

"Why is it scary?" Abby glanced up interestedly, taking a large slurp of her Caff-Pow.

Tony hesitated.

"Oh, come on, who am I gonna tell?"

"Kate."

"Okay, you have me there, but if I promise not to tell, will you tell me? Please, pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Alright, alright! I… I had a nightmare when I was a kid."

"Vampires?"

"No, a different one. You know those… uh… moving stairs?"

"Yeah."

"You know where they join the normal floor?"

"Uh-huh."

"Ever noticed how much that area looked like teeth?"

Abby grinned at this newfound information.

"That is weird! You've held on to a phobia of escalators just because one part of it looks a bit like teeth?"

"I do not want to be standing on something that could potentially eat me."

"Tony, you are paranoid," stated Abby, sounding very pleased.

"I am not! It's a legitima… mag… ah… tal…pah…gah…"

Abby glanced over at Tony, puzzled.

"Tony? You okay?"

He was muttering and swaying, looking as if he was daydreaming. Picking up a pen, he proceeded to play with it as if it were a toy plane, his eyes following its progress through the air. He then made a stabbing motion with it through the air beside him, looking as if he was concentrating very hard on this task.

"Tony?"

"Hmm? What, was I saying something?"

He had set down the pen, and was no longer swaying.

"Yeah, you were."

"Oh, sorry, must have lost my train of thought there. Oh, It's 12:30 already! I gotta go get… uh…" He made various wild motions with his hands, indicating something round, and then tilting his head back, as if drinking.

"Coffee?" Abby remembered him mentioning it before.

"Yeah! We don't want Gibbs' caffeine levels to drop while he's in a building with us. Okay, I'll see you later! Thanks, Abby!"

"No problem!"

Abby frowned at her monitor as it continued flashing fingerprints as Tony left, taking 'The Boxy One' back to the office. It wasn't like him to be this inarticulate, and to daydream in the middle of a conversation? Something had to be going on. Stress? Too much pressure from Gibbs, maybe. Or maybe it was nothing. Perhaps she was getting all worked up over a lack of sleep on Tony's part.

But her gut told her it was definitely something.

And she planned on finding out exactly what.

* * *

Please Review! Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed the second chapter! Thanks to all who reviewed - it's helped me write the third chapter:) 


	3. Gibbs and Cars

A/N: **_SOMEBODY GOT IT!_** (Squeals in happiness) I'm so proud of you all! But I'm not going to say who got it right – you'll have to wait till Chapter 5! He he he… It'll be no fun if you all know what he has! I might tell you guys what it is if you decide to lynch me, but other than that, you'll have to wait! Chapter 5 they'll mention it by name, but Chapter 4 it should be obvious to everyone.

I'm sorry if the next chapters aren't as quick at coming up – Mum wants me to study for HSC (I'm doing an accelerated course) and I hardly have any spare time anymore. (And it's the holidays. Go figure.) I'm trying to make the chapters longer, but I hardly have any time anymore, so it's either update quick and short, or update in the distant, distant future a long, long chapter. I'll try to make Chapter 5 longer, but it's proving difficult!

I tried to do personal responses to your review (I love replying personally to your comments), but when it got to about a page long, I decided that it was getting ridiculous. And I couldn't reply to one person without replying to all! Just know that I do read your comments and take them into account!

Okay, candy all around! Doubles for people who guessed! (hands out candy) And on with the fic!

* * *

The black CRV hummed quietly, content to be in the hands of a very capable, if slightly dreamy, driver. Tony had been tailing Lt. Banks' landlord for about two hours now, and was beginning to get bored. So far, the man had eaten at McDonalds (a large Big Mac meal and a Happy Meal with McNuggets), gone to the toilet, walked his dog in the park, and now he was headed home.

Well, that was a productive use of time.

Sighing, Tony turned a corner after Thomas' red Mazda, remembering to keep a fair distance away.

He had just spotted the car a couple of blocks ahead, when the Crazy Frog Remix started playing from somewhere in his jeans.

"Hey, boss," he greeted through the phone, once he had located it. "Do you think I could pull out early – there's not much activity going on, and from what I've seen it's highly unlikely that – "

"Dinozzo…"

Ooh, warning tone. Not good. Plan B: Feed the man some info and maybe he'll let you come back.

"I was just tailing Thomas – hasn't been anywhere near anything remotely shady. Hate to break it to you, boss, but if this guy is a druggie, either the kid at the counter or his dog is supplying the stuff, because he hasn't picked up anything all day except a couple of calories and a pile of dog – "

"Tony, just get your ass down here. Abby ran a couple of tests on the victim's blood – the blood type is wrong."

Tony blinked. "What?"

"The blood type listed on Banks' file doesn't match the blood type of the victim."

Funny, that revelation didn't seem to have as big an impact on him as it should.

"Tony?"

He didn't even register it – didn't comprehend or understand. He had heard what Gibbs had said, sure, but it was like a tiny echo in the back of his mind, small and insignificant. He felt his mind being peeled away from his brain again… slipping away into dreamland…

"Tony, are you listening?"

Gibbs' head shot up as he heard the screeching of tyres, people honking their horns, and shouting through the phone. Then, the crunching of metal.

"TONY!"

"…Huh?"

* * *

Gibbs was furious. And not just 'You-screwed-up-again-Dinozzo' furious. Serious 'I-_will_-fire-your-ass' furious.

"What did you think you were doing?"

They were just exiting the police station, after Tony had been given a rather large fine and 2 demerit points.

"I don't know what happened – I was driving, and the next thing I know, my car was smashed. The bit in the middle is a bit of a blur…"

"You ran a red light, Dinozzo. You were lucky you didn't kill anyone. And on top of that, Thomas got a clear view of you."

"I'm sorry, I guess I… spaced out a little."

"Well you will not 'space out' on the job, do you hear me? You have been daydreaming all the time these past few months and I have had it up to here with your irresponsibility. We have a job to do, and if you don't get your act together, I will fire your ass. _Keep your mind on the job_."

Tony sighed a halfhearted 'Sorry' in response, making a mental note that he would do everything in his power to not let this happen again. The liked his job, and decided that he would keep his mind on it, no matter what.

Ah, the sweet, sweet irony of it all.

* * *

Please Review! Note that I know nothing about cars or the penalty for running a red light, so if you tell me, I'll change it if I have time. Thanks! Oh, and sorry this chapter was so short! The next chapter is longer, I promise! 


	4. Tony and Lights

A/N: I'm updating as quick as I can, but updates should get slower after this – this is the last pre-prepared chapter I have. Plus I'm busy studying (Information Processes and Technology, for those of you who asked. I'm just coming to the end of winter holidays – between term 2 and 3). It's a little longer (I'm making a real effort in regards to length), and I'm hoping it will tide you over until my exams end. The teachers crammed a ton of tests into the first week back. Oh, and for those of you who thought I should put more emotion into that chapter, I wanted to focus on the impact it was having on his job, and how Gibbs was reacting to his 'daydreaming'. I think I've made up for it in this chapter. Thanks to the people who told me the varying penalties for running a red light, but I think I'll stick with my original guess – I can't figure out which one is right, and it fits the story well anyway.

A ton of people have guessed correctly – I guess writing it from Abby's point of view plus the car crash made it easier for you. I'm not really happy with the ending of the chapter, (although I love the beginning) but I did my best, considering what I know. Hope you like it!

* * *

The hot, muggy night air buzzed with life, the latest hits pounding through huge speakers, assaulting the eardrums of everyone within a 200 m radius. Strobe lights flashed brilliant colours overhead, sweeping over the room, watching as hundreds of young people danced to the music, trying to catch the attention of certain members of the opposite sex.

In the midst of it all, a brunette danced, having the time of their life. But for once, this brunette was not Anthony Dinozzo.

"Come on, Tony, lighten up! I thought you enjoyed the club scene!"

Tony had positioned himself at the bar, and had not even ordered a drink (to the chagrin of the bartender). His mind was solely on the job, as he scanned the room for Lt. Banks. Apparently he wasn't dead, just lacking a bit in the way of teeth. He bit his lip as he tersely replied to Kate through their concealed headsets.

"I just want to get the job done. There'll be plenty of time for celebrating later."

He wasn't about to tell her that his job was on the line. Especially with Abby listening in.

"Wow, Tony, you're beginning to sound a lot like Gibbs. It's kinda creepy."

Tony allowed himself a slight grin as his green eyes followed a pretty redhead – force of habit. "Just trying to keep my mind on the job, Abby."

"Alright, 007, have you located him yet?"

"No."

Kate made a sound of disgust in her throat. "We've been here for ages! I'm beginning to think he won't show up!"

"'Course he will. Mondays, Club 7. Wednesdays, The Spot. Saturdays, The Mermaid's Lagoon. The same schedule every week."

"Well, he sure is taking his time."

"Why are you so agitated, Kate? I thought you were having a good time with that big sailor over there."

Kate had the grace to blush as Abby snickered.

"I'm just trying to get some information, Tony."

"Yeah, his name, number, current relationship status – "

"This conversation is over."

* * *

Tony shook his head. He had promised himself that he was going to keep his mind on the job. No daydreaming.

He blinked as the flashing lights began to make him feel light headed and nauseous. No. Have to stay… alert. Flashing lights cause… dizzy.

The people on the dance floor all became suddenly sharper and clearer than he thought was possible, then cloudy and warped, confusing him. The floor seemed to warm and tilt as his mind became a blur once again, and he was only able to form one vaguely clear thought before he slipped out of consciousness.

Get away from lights…

* * *

Kate walked around, trying to socialize, hopefully earning some new friends. However, all the men she talked to would leer suggestively at her, and all the women would either back away slowly, or whisper to her that they 'don't swing that way'. Kate took a large gulp of her juice (nothing alcoholic while she was on the job). All these people seemed interested in was hooking up. No one seemed to care who it was, as long as they were the right gender. And even then, that was negotiable if they had had enough (or too much) to drink. No wonder Tony found it so easy to get a new date every month.

Noticing some very violent movement out of the corner of her eye coming from said commitment-phobe's direction, she turned, hand subconsciously reaching for her gun.

And there, still sitting at the bar, was Tony, shaking his entire body to the music, out of time and so violently that he had knocked someone's glass off the counter. And yet he still insisted on carrying on.

Kate groaned. "Tony, stop messing around."

She kept her eyes on him from across the room, as he continued to jerk violently.

"Tony, we don't have time for this."

She listened intently into her earpiece, wondering if he had answered, but she had just missed it. Odd… all she heard was a sound that was a bit like someone… gurgling?

All of a sudden, he fell out of his chair, still shaking aggressively.

Kate's eyes widened in shock. "Abby, I think something's wrong with Tony!"

Pushing her way through the crowd, she finally made her way to Tony. What she saw made her heart stop.

He was lying on the ground on his right side, tilting to his back. His arms were bent, and his body kept jerking, his head repeatedly hitting the hard wooden floor. A gurgling noise was coming from his mouth, and saliva tinged with blood dripped out of between his lips, which were now tinged an unhealthy blue. His eyes had rolled back into his head, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably, repeatedly biting hard on the inside of his mouth, causing it to bleed.

Kate was terrified. She could face terrorists on a daily basis. But this was one problem that she could not just put a couple of metal slugs into.

Various other party goers had thought he was just playing around – breakdancing or something – but once they realized that it was serious, they leapt into confused, chaotic action.

"Hold his down! Keep him still!"

"Put something in his mouth – he might bite off his tongue!"

"Give him some water – pour it in his mouth!"

"Call 911! He needs an ambulance!"

A crowd gathered as these various remedies were carried out, as Tony continued to shake and foam at the mouth.

And all Kate could do was stand there and watch helplessly.

"Kate? Kate, what's going on?"

Abby sounded frantic.

"Abby? Tony's having a fit – the ambulance is already on their way."

"What? What happened? Is he okay?"

"Hey! This guy's got a gun! And look, a badge! He's a cop!"

One of the guys holding him down yelled his find for all the world to hear, as Kate tried in vain to quiet him down.

It was no use. Every occupant of Club 7 had heard, and were clustering in curiously, all jostling for a better view of the convulsing cop.

Kate looked around. His cover was well and truly blown – but not hers. Maybe she could use this guy's outburst as a blessing in disguse.

Scanning the room, she quickly spotted her target. A man at the front of the crowd started at the news that Tony was a cop, and, quickly scanning the crowd started to edge away. If there was a cop there, he would probably have backup. He obviously wanted to get out of there before the backup found him.

"Freeze, Lt. Banks. Agent Todd, NCIS."

Too late.

The crowd backed away as Kate pointed her gun at the sweating man. His fingers crept toward a concealed weapon.

"Don't even think about it."

The lieutenant finally admitted defeat, allowing Kate to handcuff him and hurriedly read him his rights. That was one thing out of the way. Now to attend to the other, more pressing issue.

"Tony?"

Kate stooped next to her partner, who had finally gone limp and unconscious, and grasped his hand, worry etched all over her face.

"Is he okay?"

"… I don't know."

* * *

Bet you all know what it is now! If not, wait till Chapter 5! Please review! Oh, and by the way, all the methods mentioned are the incorrect methods of handling it. I'll try to mention the person who guessed it first in the next chapter. 


	5. McGee and Unwanted Information

A/N: _**I AM SO SORRY!**_ I have been so busy lately (School Cert., and HSC coming up). It's a wonder I got to post at all! But here it is, all thanks to **possiblycrazzie**! She gave me tips and inspiration to get over my writer's block, and without her, this chapter would never have been done. Thank you so much, this chapter is dedicated to you! _hands **possiblycrazzie** a bunch of flowers and a teddy_

Alright, I probably will be really slow in updating, seeing as though I've just hit the part of my schooling in which you actually have to try. But I'll do my best, I'm just not making any promises.

Cookie presentation at the end of the chapter!

* * *

Tony woke to that strange feeling you get when you fall asleep and someone else puts you in bed – not feeling completely comfortable but not feeling uncomfortable either. 

He could feel a soft mattress and pillow below him, and a light sheet covering him. Wondering vaguely where he was, he rolled over on his side and forced his heavy eyes open.

That's when it hit him.

His head felt as if a large sledgehammer had hit him – the pain was so great, it was almost nauseating. He couldn't think straight, couldn't feel his body. The only thing that existed was the heavy, pounding sensation that existed solely in his head.

Closing his eyes, he calmed himself, and tried to ignore the agony. The initial shock subsided as he adjusted to the pain, and opened his eyes again to observe his surroundings.

He immediately guessed that it was a hospital room. Where else would the walls be painted stark white with various Disney characters wallpapered around the door? Apart from the YMCA Daycare. Oh, the memories.

Vaguely registering the fact that he couldn't move his right arm, due to the fact that it was in a heavy cast (with the phone numbers and names of various nurses scrawled all over it), he sluggishly scanned the room, not moving more than was necessary. Finally, his aching eyes rested on one Timothy McGee.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

McGee smiled reassuringly at Tony, shifting slightly in the plastic chair he had been planted in for the last three hours, and setting down 'IPT for Dummies'.

"I have discovered new, painful muscles I never knew I had."

He said it more to himself or as a general announcement, as if he hadn't heard McGee, as he ran his tongue over the inside of is mouth, noting the chipped teeth and chewed out, bloody tongue and sides.

McGee laughed quietly and leaned back in his seat, regarding Tony with something close to parental affection.

"Don't worry. You'll feel better in a couple of days – just lie down. You just need a ton of sleep."

Tony groaned, having to repeat these words to himself a couple of times before they started to take on the vaguest of meanings. A meaning which he chose to ignore.

"Hey, hey! What are you doing?"

McGee scrambled to his feet as Tony swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up – only to be hit by a sickening wave of dizziness and brief loss of sight, accompanied my spinning lights.

"I'm going to work," Tony muttered thickly.

"No you're not."

Tony's balance was already nonexistent, so it was not a problem for McGee to firmly push him over, landing him back on the bed.

Now, if Tony's brain was not currently trying to escape through his ears, he would probably have been highly offended that the Probie dared lay a hand on the great Anthony Dinozzo. In his current state, however, he just groaned, as his vision did a funny dance, and his stomach bounced around violently to the tune of 'Ode to Joy'.

"I _will_ get bored."

"After my first seizure, I didn't get out of bed for a week! And I was lucky – no broken bones or serious damage."

Tony lolled on the bed, rolling over so his face was in the pillow, mildly disinterested.

"…seizure?"

"Yeah. The doctors will want to run some tests – MRI, EEG, but I can already tell. See, you have all the symptoms, and I know all about it, since I've had it since I was 16 – I found out right after the car crash."

At this, McGee sobered up a bit. But he quickly shook off the unhappy memory and plunged on, each word adding a brick to Tony's increasing headache.

"It'll be fine once it's under control, and, hey, I've got it, so we're kinda in this together, now, right?"

Tony's mind wasn't in any condition to tell McGee to shut up, so he just grunted grumpily into his pillows. McGee took this as an invitation to continue.

"You have Epilepsy."

* * *

A/N: _streamers and balloons fall from ceiling_ We have a winner! And now, a giant, super, uber-cookie to **lissa-bhw**!_ presents a huge cookie wrapped in a red ribbon_ You guessed first! Congratulations! Sorry you had to wait so long. 

Alright, things should get interesting now. Please review – tell me if I'm going wrong or what you want to happen, and I will take it into consideration. On that note, should I do pairings? (Tate?)


	6. Ducky and Joan of Arc

A/N: Alright. I get it. I'm a bad, bad up-dater. But, hey, I posted 'Office Entertainment' for you! To be honest, that story is one of my favourites that I've written. If you haven't read it, please read and review it!

The different pairing requests confused me, so I'm not going to make any pairs. Sorry! Unless the story just happens to grow in one direction. Then maybe.

The leprechaun thing is inspired by a recent event, when I was at the beach on a really windy day, and the sand was pelting me, so I said to my friends "It's like I'm being shot at by thousands of tiny little faeries!" Yeah… they don't take me seriously anymore…

Alright, another shout out to **possiblycrazee**, who reminded me that this story existed, and gave me tonnes of ideas. She's like… my new muse. My old one took one look at my exams and headed for Taihiti.

Oh, and I love you all! distributes candy, cookies and cute, cuddly things

* * *

Kate stood in the lab, staring at the large screen in front of her. She bit her lip as her eyes anxiously scanned the data presented to her. Various images and blocks of text appeared on screen, all about the same thing.

She shook her head and grasped the silver crucifix that hung around her neck. She had looked everywhere for information on this strange new ailment, and had come up with one terrifying conclusion.

Demon possession.

This condition didn't seem to have any trigger – no-one knew what caused it. People just happened to have it. Some children got it when they were younger, but it left them when they got older and stronger.

'_Spiritually stronger.'_

Some people she read about already thought that seizures were the result of demon possession. She was inclined to agree. What else would cause a healthy young man to fall into convulsions for no known reason?

But now what should she do? She was his friend and co-worker… she was supposed to support him.

_Was_ his friend.

'_He's different now'_, she reminded herself. _'He's not safe to be around. Who knows what he could do when he's having one of his fits? He could flip out and kill us all!'_

He is possessed. He's not safe. He has no control. He is no longer Tony. We don't know him any more.

Her fingers tightened around the crucifix. She was afraid. But she would survive. She just had to stay away from him.

It was for her own safety.

* * *

"I find it rather fascinating myself – epilepsy is a condition surrounded by many misconceptions. Many people believe that it causes the patient to see visions of the future, or have supernatural powers. Joan of Arc is said to have been an epileptic, which would explain the light and voices she experienced, as well as Alexander the Great – "

"It's so cool! I'm so jealous – why can't I have a cool condition like that?"

Ducky smiled to himself as he finished up his autopsy and washed his hands of blood. Abby often failed to see the serious side of things – focusing more on the weird, wacky and wonderful interpretations of various situations.

"I doubt Anthony will see it that way. He's more likely to be cursing every which way with the fogginess, nausea and mood swings the medication will cause. Not to mention the blinding migraines. I would not want to be in his position."

Abby pouted at him from her position perched on an unoccupied autopsy table as she swung her legs back and forth.

"Aww, come on Ducky. It's pretty cool! You know, maybe he can actually see the future and be like those psychics that solve crime! Think of all the time off we would get! Maybe he'll get a TV series! Yeah, it'll be like… '_Dinozzo Knows'_ or some other cheesy title like that! He'll become famous and drag us up with him, because if he doesn't I'll hit him."

"Your ability to integrate spiritual beliefs into everyday life while working in science never ceases to amaze me."

Abby grinned and slurped her Caff-Pow. "It's a gift."

* * *

Tony had been doing a lot of sleeping. But there's only so much you can do before you get really, really bored.

He was way beyond that point.

His deep sleeps had turned into light naps, and he was finally able understand as well as construct a sentence. He even carried on a short conversation with McGee the other day – it went for 7 minutes until the tiny little leprechauns with pick-axes came back to hunt for gold in his brain.

All in all, he was improving just to the point that he didn't feel sick while resting, but the moment he got up to do something his brain decided to try squeezing into a suit 10 times too small for it.

The doctors wanted to keep him at the hospital for a few more days, until he got better and they had the opportunity to run a few more tests. The MRI had shown that he did not have a tumour, however, and he had been told that the doctors were quite sure it was epilepsy. In fact, they had prescribed him a couple of square shaped white pills called Lamactil. They were alright – he just had to swallow them quickly, otherwise they would disintegrate in his mouth, and tasted of disgusting, powdery chemicals. It took ages to get that taste out of his mouth.

As a result, he had been lying in bed for the past couple of days, wondering if that cute nurse was ever going to call. Then again, he had been a bit brain-dead when he gave her his number, so maybe he had forgotten to turn up the Dinozzo Charm. He hoped she would give him the benefit of the doubt – that was one cute Asian.

He had to admit, he was feeling a bit neglected. McGee came around once a day and Abby and Ducky had come and gone two or three times, but no word from Kate or the Boss. Not even a phone call.

When he asked McGee about them, his eyes would immediately go to the floor and he would say they were busy, or about to call, or planning on coming over soon. It was the same with Abby.

When he asked Ducky, he just looked at him kindly and said "They have a couple of things to sort out. They could use your help, so you'd better get better quickly."

"What type of things?" Tony had asked.

"You'll find out when you get back on your feet."

Tony hated guessing games.

* * *

Gibbs stared angrily at the papers presented to him.

"Idiot…"

* * *

A/N: Please review. I know the chapters aren't that long, but I'm trying! I've got a Peer Support Application to fill out (although I'm probably not gonna get picked – they always pick the 'blatantly-obvious-leader-types', not the 'quiet-types'), so you're lucky I got this up. I'm working on this when I can. And all these reactions are serious – I have received these reactions from various people. I used to go to a Christian school, and I got quite a few people keeping away from me when I told them about my condition. 


	7. Kate and Overworked Sweat Glands

A/N: Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year! If you're in Australia, did you see those fireworks? I think the heart theme is one of the better ones. I didn't like the disco ball last year much.

Alright, I know I hardly update. I'm sorry! But I'm not exactly in a 'story-filled' place at the moment (blame maths). I wouldn't have this up if it wasn't for the efforts of **possiblycrazee**, once again. Everyone, go check out her story and review it! It's her first, so be nice. I think it's really good!

I've tried to make a substantial amount happen in this chapter – it sets up what happens in the next couple of chapters. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Gibbs drank deeply from his Starbucks paper cup. It was his fifth one that day and they hadn't even hit noon. That was always a bad sign.

He knew he shouldn't drink so much coffee – the caffeine had to be doing something bad to his brain cells. He could swear he was developing a nervous twitch around his left eye. But, as it wasn't having a drastic immediate effect, he didn't feel the need to worry. It helped him get the job done, didn't it?

Or maybe he should just sleep more.

He sighed and set his cup down, going over the papers he received once again. He knew there was nothing he could do – this was the only choice. He had seen men with defects such as this get shipped back home before you could say "Faker". Shirking their duty, he had thought. Too scared, so they fake some mystery illness (it didn't look too hard to do – just stare vacantly at nothing) and go home, honourably and safely.

Back when he was a marine, he just scowled and looked the other way. But he never imagined Dinozzo trying to pull off something like this.

It made sense to him, though. Tony had started to slack off on work, he was always distracted, and the incident with the car… maybe he was just tired of being an NCIS agent.

Gibbs slammed his fist onto his desk, causing everyone in the office to jump, and then scuttle away like scared crabs. Why didn't he just resign like a normal person?

Oh yes. The honors. People will think him great for doing this job until he couldn't do it anymore. It just frustrated Gibbs to no end that he couldn't do anything about it.

All he could do, he thought moodily, is follow orders.

He hated that.

* * *

Tony was practically bouncing off the walls.

Being cooped up at home didn't agree with him, and he longed to get back to the office to see the Boss and Kate. He guessed that they must be working on a really big case, seeing as though they never visited him. And probably having no luck, seeing as though the star of the team wasn't with them and… they hadn't visited him. He grinned to himself as he stepped from the elevator (having stopped by to see Abby and Ducky first). Kate alone with a frustrated, angry Gibbs – he was certain that she would, for once, fall on her knees and thank the heavens for the presence of one Anthony Dinozzo.

Okay, so he didn't expect that literally. He thought she'd be glad to see him, that's all.

So when she let out a squeak like a frightened mouse and scuttled away, mumbling something about lab results, he was a bit confused.

"You're going to see Abby? I'll come too."

Kate put on a false smile as she waited, sweating, for the elevator. "No, it's okay, I'll be fine. You probably have a lot of paperwork to do, now that you're back."

The elevator arrived and she practically leaped into the small cubicle.

"So just get started on that, okay? Alright, I'll see you in a bit…"

Then she was gone, leaving Tony staring, confused, at the shiny silver doors.

* * *

Kate burst into the lab, seeking out one extremely exuberant Goth girl. Said Goth was currently analysing one of Tony's little white pills, out of pure boredom.

"Wow, that is one hell of a chemical cocktail."

"Abby! Abby, he's back!"

"Oh, Kate! Hi! Yeah, isn't it great? He's completely better, and Ducky says apart from a couple of fits here and there – which will probably happen a lot seeing as though his medicine needs adjusting – and the side effects of the medicine – which I'm told can be rather nasty, or creepy, like déjà vu, which I didn't even know could be a side effect - but you know, if it's needed – "

"ABBY!"

The bubbly girl stopped in mid-ramble and stared at the pale, sweating Kate, concerned.

"What is it, Kate? He's going to be fine, you know."

Kate looked at her helplessly. How did you explain your fears to someone who didn't believe in them?

"What… what if his… condition," at this word Kate suppressed the urge to shudder, "is contagious? What if he spreads it to all of us?"

She didn't want to express her real concerns, for fear of being ridiculed, so this explanation would have to do.

"The doctors said it's not contagious. In fact, they – "

"Don't know what caused it?"

Abby nodded mutely, trying to support Kate and help her to understand, but not understanding herself.

"Abby, don't you see? Doctors have no idea what caused it, it causes him to go into convulsions and loose control of his body…"

"Yeah…"

Kate sighed, defeated. "Abby, I think it's spiritual. The doctors are wrong. Tony is being possessed by a demon. Who knows what he'll do?"

Abby sat, stunned for a moment. This angle hadn't occurred to her, and she didn't want to believe it.

"It's Tony, Kate. He'd never hurt us."

"It's not Tony anymore."

Abby was torn. She wanted to support Tony, but Kate was obviously scared of him, and she needed support too. But she didn't agree with her, and hadn't much of an idea as to how to support her without turning on Tony.

"Well… you could try to get it out of him…"

She knew as soon as the words were out of her mouth that it wasn't a good idea, and would have done anything – even dyed her hair pink – to take them back. She had only been thinking of ways to comfort Kate. Kate, however, stared at her, like she had suddenly become the most beautiful thing in the entire known universe.

"Abby, you're a genius!"

Kate pulled her into a hug, and then ran out.

Abby sighed. If this was going where she thought it was, Tony was in for an extremely unwelcome surprise.

* * *

"Here."

Gibbs slammed a file in front of Tony, and stalked away, presumably to find more coffee. Or brew his own, seeing as though the employees of Starbucks were beginning to get rather reluctant to hand over the hot, brown, life-juice after he barged in there for the seventeenth time, demanding coffee, with a very prominent nervous twitch about his left eye.

Tony stared after him. He hadn't seen him all day (he was probably in a conference), and then he hardly even gets a second thought. Wasn't he glad to see him back? His return wasn't turning out as he had hoped, and he was certain that the day couldn't get any worse.

Sighing, he opened the folder.

And stared.

He just had to tempt fate, didn't he?

* * *

A/N: Please review! And go check out **possiblycrazee**'s story. (Hands out baubles to everyone. Why? Because they're fun and shiny. BAUBLE FIGHT!) 


	8. Tony and Surprise Visitors

**A/N:** Please do not take this personally, Christians, Catholics, Priests, and door-to-door salesmen! I do not mean to offend anyone, all I'm doing is depicting some of the more… interesting reactions I've received. I'm so sorry if I offend anyone! I do not mean it, I promise! I'm Christian myself, and I have nothing against various religions!

I don't know the real procedure for this, or who does it, so if I get it wrong, I'm sorry.

The restaurants' name is 'I don't speak French' in French.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Friends', Joey, a turkey, or a chick and a duck. I felt the need to put in an extra disclaimer since I mention it…

* * *

Ducky looked at Gibbs, frowning.

"Oh, dear. That can't be good."

Gibbs scowled. He wanted to say that it was all his own fault, anyway, and that he had no-one to blame but himself. But he didn't. He'll handle Tony directly.

"Well, what do you expect? Shaking so much you can't stand up – it's no wonder he won't be allowed to do some things anymore."

"Well, the times I know of had triggers. He had overworked himself and was tired as well as over heated causing the first one, then it was Abby's plasma screen in the lab, the glare of the reflected light moving and flashing in the car, as well as heat, as it was extremely hot that day – what possessed him to go out in a black car – and then the most recent seizure…" Ducky trailed off, knowing that stress had no small amount to play in Tony's condition. Stress induced by Jethro Gibbs. He looked at Jethro, concerned. "I understand that these precautions must be made, but still, maybe if he was careful…" He knew he was fighting for a lost cause, and sighed defeated. Rules were rules. "He must be very upset."

"I wouldn't know." He didn't want to know.

This confused Ducky.

"How come? You did talk him through it? Explain why this is happening?"

Now, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs usually wasn't one to refrain from lying. Well, not lying, but 'omitting certain truths deemed unnecessary by his person'. This form of censorship had served him well for several years, getting him out of tight spots, and helping in investigations.

However, he wasn't sure about this method being used on Ducky. He was friendly, tended to wax nostalgic, but he was smart. And one of his best friends. He could see right through him.

"He knows." Short, non-specific, still truthful answers. That's the way to maneuver out of this.

Ducky narrowed his eyes, a sight to behold on the aging doctor's face. Gibbs was giving short, non-specific answers. That meant he was hiding something.

"But you talked to him, right?"

This was important. Tony needed support.

"…yes."

Ducky sighed, and smiled at his friend. He wanted to make sure Tony got the help he needed, and Gibbs wasn't exactly the talking type. However, if he said he did it… he trusted him.

"Alright. That's all I wanted to know. I'm going to bring some blood samples to Abby. I'll see you in a bit."

Then he was gone.

Gibbs sighed. He felt bad about censoring his conversation with Ducky. He hadn't done it before, and he felt like he had betrayed his trust.

He didn't lie, exactly. He had spoken to Tony about it.

He had said, "Here".

* * *

Tony flopped down on his cozy, beige, couch, and heaved a sigh. Today had been tougher than usual. He had prepared himself for questions, comments, and the jolt of returning to work after an extended leave of absence. But he was in no way prepared for the actual behavior that came his way.

He picked up the television remote and switched it on, idly flicking through the channels. He eventually settled on the 'Friends' marathon, tuning in during the middle of 'The One With The Chick and the Duck'. He wasn't really paying attention to the antics of said 'Friends', though. For him, they were more like thinking music, so he could concentrate on exactly what had transpired between him and his colleagues that day. He couldn't think when it was too quiet.

Abby, Ducky and McGee were fine. He had talked to them when he arrived, and they had, of course, been happy to see him up and about again. He even gave Abby one of those foul-tasting white pills he had to take, for her to analyze. Partly because she was bored, and partly because they were both morbidly curious as to exactly what chemicals he was pumping into his body – and how much. He guessed it wasn't good by it's taste – and the fact that Abby wrinkled her nose and widened her eyes when he showed her the box. Her exact words, if he remembered correctly, were, "They can do that!"

Although Abby hadn't exactly been reassuring, she was a whole lot better than Kate and Gibbs. This was where it got confusing. He had worked with them both for ages. They had saved his life, he had saved theirs. They weren't just colleagues, they were friends.

So why were they ignoring him?

Tony could tell it wasn't the playful sort of ignoring he was subjected to when he had come back after having the plague. Then, they had totally ignored him – even when he was dancing in their faces. Now, they acknowledged him – but only as much as necessary, to be civil. Sort of. The conversations were short and to the point, Kate always finding an excuse to hurry off, and Gibbs just walking off after uttering a "Here", "Get to work", "Hurry up" or "Shut it".

They hadn't visited him when he was sick – a fact he had been willing to overlook, seeing as though they probably had a big case. But now that he was back, no recent cases seemed to take up the amount of manpower that would keep them from visiting him. In fact, the last week had just been paperwork.

And they didn't even ask whether he was feeling better, or call, or even leave a note!

Tony glared at the television screen (which currently depicted an Italian man with his head up a turkey's bum), anger resembling that of a woman scorned beginning to build up in his chest.

He was there for them, despite all his pranks and jokes! Why weren't they there for him? And then there was the file Gibbs gave him…

He quickly got up and went to the kitchen to brew himself some herbal tea. Anger didn't solve anything, he reminded himself. Unless you're Gibbs, and you have the uncanny ability to fashion your anger into a white-hot arrow pointed directly at your enemy.

He put the kettle on and sighed. Unfortunately, he didn't know who his enemy was.

He didn't look up at the first knock – he thought it was the TV. The second knock was louder and sounded more real, however, so he decided to answer, just in case someone was there.

The door swung open to reveal a tall, brown haired man in a smart black suit without a tie. Instead, a silver cross hung around his neck. He carried a briefcase, and wearing a disturbingly serene look on his face.

"Hello Mr. Dinozzo. My Name is Father Adams – I'm here to help you."

Tony – like all people who are confronted by similar spectacles on their doorstep – smiled uncomfortably and said, "I'm sorry, Sir-Father, but I have no intention of joining a religious group now or anytime in the future."

Father Adams just smiled. "May I come in?"

"No."

He was kind of annoyed. He had just been through the mother of bad days, and the last thing he needed was a pushy door-to-door salesman.

"Tony, let us in."

Tony jumped and craned his neck to see behind Father Adams.

Standing there was Kate, fidgeting and sweating nervously, still refusing to look him in the eye.

"What the – "

Father Adams quickly obscured his view of Kate. As if he were protecting her.

"We'd like to come in, if you please."

He had prepared for some swearing, slamming of doors and overall violence. So he was a little bit surprised when Tony, partly out of shock and partly because he wanted to talk to Kate, stammered a "Yeah, sure, come on in", opened the door, and proceeded to offer them some herbal tea he had apparently just been in the middle of brewing. They sat on the couch, after quickly refusing the tea, and waited for him to return from the kitchen.

Father Adams turned to Kate and whispered in her ear.

"Are you sure he's the one?"

"Positive!"

"He's not showing any signs – he doesn't look as if he's possessed."

"Not now he isn't. Believe me, I saw it. He was shaking on the ground and frothing at the mouth and biting his tongue and he was screaming!"

Kate's memory of the event was slightly exaggerated – due to the speed of which it happened, the darkness, flashing lights and distraction of holding a criminal at gunpoint. Plus the fact that the entire club had been screaming at the spectacle.

He looked intently at her for a moment.

"Maybe he was possessed, but I think it has passed, or left him."

Kate saw where this was going and immediately began to object, but he quickly quieted her.

"I do not sense any bad spirits here. We can't do anything – unless he is in the middle of a fit. Or immediately after one."

Kate nodded mutely, disappointed and scared.

"If he should have a fit when you are present," he pressed a silver cross into her hand, "you know what to do. It doesn't matter if it's big or small. I'm only a few minutes away."

She nodded resolutely.

Father Adams stood up, and spoke loudly in the direction of the kitchen.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Mr. Dinozzo, but I'm afraid we have to leave now. I have reservations at that new restaurant – _Je Ne Parle Francais_. It's supposed to be quite good – authentic French food. Apparently the owners recently moved here from France. Well, goodbye!"

He quickly left, Kate in tow.

"Hey, wait, what? Uh… Bye!"

Tony was left standing in the doorway of his kitchen, a pot of herbal tea in one hand, wondering what on earth had just happened in his living room.

* * *

A/N: There you go! Hope you liked it! Please don't kill me! 


	9. Abby and Dancing Blood Cells

A/N: Well, my muse is back. And right in the middle of my half-yearlies. These tests could determine my life, and my mind wants to write stories! Ah, well, at least I'll do alright in English. I'm in Year 11, if anyone wants to know. I started this story in Year 10. See how bad I am at updating? I was supposed to be studying when I wrote this. Shh, don't tell anyone.

It's kinda weird having to write Kate again – I've gotten used to Ziva. Her personality might be a bit off, 'cause I haven't seen her in ages. I blame it on the emotional roller coaster she's riding. I know you hate Kate right now (points to angry reviews) but here I offer an explanation, so don't get too fired up.

Kudos to **possiblycrazee**, whose collaboration helped me out!

Enjoy!

* * *

It had been a week now.

An entire week, and still she hadn't caught him.

Every time he had a seizure, it seemed like he was daydreaming. She just couldn't tell he difference. And by the time he shook his head, grinned, and said "What?" it was too late.

Abby was watching her much like an over protective mother would watch the neighbourhood 'bachelor'. She knew it had been a bad idea to confide in the lab technician. She just didn't understand.

Gibbs was giving Tony an unusually wide berth as well, which resulted in him hanging out with Abby most of the time.

Kate drummed her fingers on her desk. At least here she was safe.

_'But Abby has no idea of the danger…'_

This thought disturbed Kate greatly. Something had to be done. She checked her watch. _'Just in time.'_ Frowning resolutely, she grabbed her coat and made her way toward the elevator.

The Father will still be at church.

* * *

"I dunno, Abs, it's like all of a sudden they hate me."

Abby ducked her head guiltily, pretending to be mesmerised in the DNA test she was running.

"Well, give them some time."

"It's not like they have to make major changes! I'm still trying to do my job properly, the least they could do is help me out!" Tony waved the folder that had been 'handed' to him by Gibbs in the air. "Look at this! I can't carry a gun, I can't drive – I took the damn bus to work today! My baby's sitting at home, just waiting to be started up, and I pay to ride in a mass transport vehicle that reeks of human excrement."

Abby frowned, concentrating hard on finding new and exciting patterns in the blood she was analysing. "Well… they probably just don't want to rub it in your face that they can do those things." Man, she sucked. She felt Tony's disbelieving eyes boring a hole into the back of her skull, so she turned and faced him, finally giving up on playing join-the-dots with red blood cells.

"Alright, so maybe they just feel awkward. After all, it was a bit sudden."

Tony didn't look satisfied. "Still, they could at least say something. I mean, I'm still the same guy!"

"Not according to Kate, you aren't."

"What?"

Oops.

* * *

The wind whipped around her , tearing at her hair and threatening to push over her slight frame. Pulling her heavy coat tighter around her, she made her way up the steps, into the cold, stone church.

"Father Adams? Are you here?" Her voice echoed around the walls of the room, emphasising her size and location, making her feel more and more exposed.

But then, that's what church is for, is it not? To 'expose' yourself.

"Miss Todd?" Father Adams emerged from seemingly thin air, causing Kate to jump. "What are you doing here now, in this weather?"

"I have to talk to you."

Father Adams looked Kate over. Her hair was windblown, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes held nothing if not despair. He sighed in resignation.

"Alright, come and sit down." His Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup would have to wait.

They sat in the pews, trying to make themselves comfortable and ignore the howling wind outside.

"Father Adams…"

"Yes?"

"Do you remember the incident I reported to you about a week or so ago?"

He smiled, recalling the details of his little house call. "Yes, I remember it quite clearly."

Kate fidgeted with her scarf. "Well, I still haven't found an opportunity."

Now, this surprised him. He believed that if the boy was demon possessed, Miss Todd would get him quickly, as he would most likely be having frequent re-lapses.

"I'm not sure," continued Kate, oblivious to the Father's confusion, "but I think it would be good if somehow we could have him under surveillance or something. Do you have a room – like a cellar - here you could lock him up in… or…"

It was one of those moments. Those moments where you suddenly stop and go 'What on earth am I thinking?'. Everything up to now had made perfect sense in her mind. It was as if she had been walking around in a fearful daze, and then suddenly woke up to find herself requesting that her colleague be locked up in the church cellar.

Next thing she knew, she'd be leading a witch-hunt.

"Oh, my." Her eyes widened as she realised what she was saying.

Father Adams just sat serenely, understanding now what was going on, and not about to stop her new self-discovery route.

"I – I didn't mean that. I just… I think I need to… think." Kate looked thoroughly flustered, as she stood, confusion seeping out of every pore.

"Katie."

She stopped.

"Sit down."

She obeyed.

"Has he been treated by a doctor, Katie?"

"…yes. But – "

"Katie."

Silence.

"What did the doctor say?"

Silence.

"What did the doctor say, Katie?"

"He… he has Epilepsy. Seizures… no known cause… they just come…" She suddenly turned violent. "But that can't be it! There's a cause for everything! They're wrong!"

"Katie!" She quietened. "You of all people should know that many things happen without any explanation. Not everything can be slotted neatly into categories."

"But…"

"Some fits are brought about by demon possession, true. But a lot are brought about by medical conditions. I can only help with one. I'm no good with the other."

"But…"

"But what, Katie?"

Kate bowed her head, ignoring the tears flowing freely down her face.

"It has to be possession."

"Why?"

Kate looked up, frantic, pleading.

"Then you can fix it! It can stop right now! Today! And it'll be the same as it always was! We can do jobs together, I'll make fun of him, he'll tease me back. He'll make sexist remarks, and everything will be fine!"

Father Adams reached out, and hugged Kate, who curled up, sobbing, on the pew.

"Wishing doesn't make it so. You can still have all those things."

"But he'll die, I know it! He can't take care of himself! He always jokes around too much for his own good! He'll die, just like James!"

Ah. He had forgotten about James. He was, bright, intelligent, witty. He was her cousin, whom she loved like an older brother. The poor boy had a brain tumour. But that's not what killed him. The symptoms of a brain tumour include seizures. He had decided he wanted to spend his last days with his family. With Kate. But travelling home with her, waiting on the deserted platform for the train, he had a fit. He fell onto the tracks. She jumped down, and tried to move him, of course, but…

He was shaking too hard. He was too heavy.

She was just a girl.

And it had to be that one time that the train wasn't late.

"Listen to me. He won't die. He isn't doomed to the same fate as James."

"The shaking…"

"You're older now. You're stronger. Stick with him. Take care of him. Because of you, he might avoid ending up like James."

Kate turned to Father Adams. Yes… That made sense. By taking care of Tony, she could redeem herself for loosing James.

She refused to loose them both.

She broke into a wonky smile through her bleary eyes. A bit shaky, true. But the first true smile she had smiled in a while.

* * *

No-one there.

Tony sighed, sitting at is desk, looking at the conspicuously empty desks of his colleagues. He used to love work, but now it just seemed a burden. The walls seemed to close in, and the fans to suck up air instead of circulate it. He knew this wasn't good for him. _'Stress is one of the triggers. So is hyperventilating. So, if you value your scull, chill, and quit breathing like that!' _He reprimanded himself.

Maybe he should quit. He could only do research now (Although he was pretty damn good at it, even McGee said so. Not that McGee's praise meant anything.) He was good at what he did, and he liked the people he worked with. But he just felt incompetent. Compared with what he used to be able to do, he felt like… a probie.

Oh, new, cruel, sick, twisted circles of Hell.

Sighing in defeat, he shut off his computer giving up on his report. He'd do it some time later.

Getting up, he lifted his lead limbs over his head in an exaggerated stretch, even though he had no audience, grabbed his backpack, and turned to the elevator.

And stopped.

How long had she been staring?

"Um… Kate?"

Tony didn't remember getting on the floor. At first he assumed he had another seizure. But the absence of any pain (at least, in his head), and the presence of a sobbing Caitlin on top of him quickly ruled out that option.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Something was definitely wrong. She was acting all… off.

"Kate? What – "

"I promise I won't ignore you! I'll take care of you! I'm sorry! I just freaked out!"

Ah.

"Shh, Kate." He self-consciously hugged her, brushing down her hair. "It's fine. It's okay."

"I treated you horribly!"

Tony paused. If he tried to comfort her by saying she didn't, well, that would be lying. Man, what to say to an emotional co-worker – no, friend – to make her feel better in a situation like this?

"I'll let you perform an exorcism on me, if it makes you feel better."

* * *

A/N: Please review, so I know whether to bother attempting the last chapters. It's gonna have either one or two more chapters if there's still interest. Otherwise I might take the story off the site. 


	10. Gibbs and Superman

A/N: grins I got my first flame! And it was literate too! Weird thing to be excited about, but angry reviewer has 1. Given me my first flame! 2. Given me valuable feedback, though it had to be gleaned from fire and ashes, and 3. Made me realise that some things I have said do not come across as I mean them. Of course, all I meant by my previous comment was that I'm considering dropping the story, so don't get attached, as I have other engagements, and updates will be slower than dial-up, as ideas are running dry. I apologise if it seemed like I was holding anyone for ransom in order to gain reviews – that was not my intention. I just wanted to know if anyone was interested, 'cause while I'm enjoying writing, it's becoming a challenge.

What's odd, is that I was flamed for my Author's Note. So basically said flamer hated me rather than my story. Which is fine, but kinda weird, seeing as though I've never met them, or talked directly to them. Ah, well. If Johnny Howard can handle, so can I!

Now, on with the fic!

* * *

Three dead marines found in a forest to the west. His team was given the case.

Gibbs growled. It wasn't like he didn't have enough to handle. Despite popular opinion and numerous office polls, he wasn't Superman. 'All hands on deck' was the call given. Everyone in his team had to be working this one case.

Everyone.

Work would go twice as slow, he just knew it.

* * *

It was raining.

Not a very acute observation, but an observation nonetheless. And Gibbs had said 'observe'. He hadn't specified in what manner.

Tony sighed, slouching in the back seat of Gibbs' car. Everyone was out doing something except him. So what if he blanks out every once in a while? He can still work a scene! Ah, well. At least he didn't have Palmer's job.

You think pulling your foot out of mud is tough? Try pulling three bodies.

Tony shifted left. Right. Cross legs. Uncross. Look out left window. Look out right window. Roll down window and inform Kate that it is an opportune moment for mud wrestling. Dodge mud. Clean shoes.

You do not stick a Tony into a car without amusement. Just… no. It's one of the basic rules of life. You want to live? Give him air, a nice ball, perhaps, a meadow to frolic in. A nice juicy bone. But not this. This is inhumane.

He sighed. At least it was mostly back to normal. It was all like it was before, the joking around, stupid, sexist remarks. There was even a paperclip fight last week.

Gibbs, however…

He acted like Tony was dead weight, and he couldn't wait to get rid of him. The monosyllables, the gruff brush-offs. Tony missed his head-slaps. He needed to feel the harsh, rough hands of Gibbs rattle his brain in his skull again. Not in a macho sort of way. It was because when Gibbs hit him, he was correcting him. And when people bother to correct you – they care.

He cared, right?

Of course he did. You can't train a guy for this long and not care. You can't care for all this time and just stop. But… it's Gibbs. Superman. The man of steel. He can do anything. Anything. Maybe even…

Tony frowned, turning to stare out the left window. Why'd he come along, anyway? He could do more at the office. Help Abby, or at least keep her company. Well, he could do that here.

Picking up his mobile, he started poking the little buttons, trying to recall the magical code that made the thing work, until he remembered he had her number in his address book.

"Oh, yeah, because I got a new 'phone, and I had to use the… Shut up, Dinozzo."

Hearing those words out loud made him feel a little better. But he drew the line at a self-inflicted head-slap.

* * *

"Hello sir, we have several gorgeous blondes just dying to talk to you – "

"Uh… I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong number."

Oh, Abby was so going to pay.

* * *

"Hello, NCIS Forensics Lab, Abby – "

"ABBY!"

"Tony! Hi!"

"Abby, what was the big idea?"

Abby grinned, twirling her pigtails and slurping her Caff-Pow as she listened to an infuriated Italian ranting on the other end.

"I have never been more mortified in my entire life! The woman wouldn't let me hang up!"

"Why did you? I thought blondes were your thing."

"But I wanted to talk to you!"

"Aw, that's sweet. How did you get this number, anyway?"

"I vaguely remembered it."

"Vaguely?"

"I may have made a few calls to Australia in the process."

"Well, at least you're making new friends."

"Not funny, Abs."

Abby giggled, twirling in her chair. Any amusement while the team was out was welcome. And this was by far the best amusement she had had in a while.

"I think it is."

"You would. What if it had been an emergency? What it – for some odd, unexplainable reason, we needed to contact you right away, and my mobile was the only one that…"

A pause. Abby frowned. Another seizure?

"Tony?"

"Hold that thought, Abs. I think I saw something. I'll call you – "

"HANDS UP! GET OUT OF THE CAR!"

"TONY! Tony, what's going on?"

"Alright, I'm getting out. I'm unarmed."

"You'd better be. Come on!"

"TONY!"

* * *

Tony quietly cursed under his breath in all the languages he could speak (four, if you included gibberish). It was just his luck. The mud had been too thick to park close to the scene, and the car was half hidden by shrubs. They'd have finished up with the scene and pulled the bodies out by the time they noticed he was gone.

His kidnapper hadn't brought him far from the car. He wagered that if he made enough noise, Gibbs' super-hearing could pick it up over the rain. So. You're in a muddy forest, defenceless, with one known attacker wielding a gun. Now… what in that situation could be used to make a very big noise?

"YOU GOING TO SHOOT ME?"

Great. Just great.

"Keep your voice down."

"I'M SORRY MISS, I'M A BIT HARD OF HEARING, PARTICULARLY WHEN IT RAINS. WHY'D YOU THINK THEY LEFT ME IN THE CAR?"

Alright, not the best of plans. But it was the only one he had. Tony bit his lip and continued, thankful that he had listened to at least a few of Ducky's rambling stories.

"IT DOESN'T AFFECT MY WORK, THOUGH. I CAN WORK ALL DAY AND NOT HEAR A THING – MAKES PEOPLE THINK I HAVE WONDERFUL CONCENTRATION."

"Shut up!"

"I'M SORRY, WHAT WAS THAT?"

The woman pointed her gun at Tony's head. "Speak again, I shoot."

As much as Tony wished to be found, he did not want to play with those odds. He nodded, silently.

"Good. Now, what is going to happen, is we are going to get into that car, and you are going to drive me where I direct you. If you do not comply, I will shoot you. If you try to escape, I will shoot you. If you make a wrong turn, I will shoot you. Alright?"

Wow, talk about a strict driving instructor.

* * *

They made their way silently back towards the car, Tony listening carefully to the woman behind him. He knew she would have trouble walking through the mud – that was what he was pinning his hopes on.

Sure enough, as they reached the car, he heard a curse, and a satisfying squelch.

Alright. Mud wrestling time.

Mud wrestling, he discovered, isn't as much fun when your opponent is nowhere near naked, and actually does want to kill you. Plus, she was freakishly strong. It made him feel sadly emasculated. But that was an issue to be tackled in therapy later. Right now, he needed to get the gun from her.

They rolled over each other, punching and kicking furiously, down an embankment, through some bushes – straight into the crime scene.

'_Oh… bugger.'_

Well, now he knew that either way he was going to die.

"NCIS! Freeze!"

The woman kneeled in the mud, and pulled Tony to her, gun pressed to his temple.

"I'll kill him."

"Go ahead."

'_Ouch.'_

Kate, McGee and Gibbs stood in a semi-circle around them, Ducky and Palmer having scampered off to hide. They had just been discussing which way each one would go in search of Tony after McGee received a call from Abby – he had gone missing, a quick check of the car confirming that. Each of the agents aimed their weapons carefully. It seemed they hadn't needed to go searching. Gibbs watched the woman closely, looking for any opening. She seemed well trained – he'd have to be careful.

"Is he not one of yours?"

"No," lied Kate smoothly. "A petty crim we caught on the way here. Entering a gay bar naked."

Tony glared at her. If he died, she would be so sorry.

"Alright then."

He knew she'd pull the trigger. He could tell from his brief conversation with her before – she wasn't one to make idle threats. And if she was going down, someone – anyone – had to go down with her.

Even if it was an exhibitionist from a gay bar.

He jammed his elbow into her stomach as hard as he could, and he shot went wild, off into the tree-tops. A punch to her face, grab and twist her arm, and he had the gun.

"NO!" she snarled, lunging for him. She wouldn't go to jail. For her, it was either freedom on earth, or freedom in heaven. Or hell.

Three shots rang out.

Her body fell to the ground.

Tony just stared, through a thick mud mask, as if he had never used a gun before.

"Tony? Are you alright?"

The team holstered their weapons, Kate pulling Tony up while McGee called Abby to assure her that Tony was fine, and that they had found him – or he had found them – in time. Gibbs just stood and watched Tony, in quiet reflection.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Never thought I'd do that, though."

"What?"

"Participate in mud wrestling instead of just watch it."

"Pig."

"Hey, I got the suspect, didn't I?"

Gibbs frowned. Dinozzo did an alright job, he'd give him that. Maybe he did intend to stay.

"I'll bet that once I brush up on my hand-to-hand combat skills, I can keep up with you. Plus, I'll have a body to die for."

"You do realise how gay that sounded?"

"What's wrong with that? Are you being prejudice?"

He was staying. And he had plans to work even harder. Maybe Gibbs had been too hard on him. Maybe – maybe it wasn't an excuse. Maybe… he was wrong. He was wrong. The doctors were right. His team was right.

He didn't waste time feeling guilty. He had an opinion, and if that opinion turned out to be wrong, so what? At least he had one. Guilt didn't fix anything. Action did.

Gibbs strode past the bickering agents, somehow managing to look dignified whilst covered in mud.

And head slapped Dinozzo.

**END **

* * *

A/N: YAY! balloons, streamers, and party cake come out of no-where It's done! My first chapter story! And that, my friends, is why I never do chapter stories. I end up torturing you poor readers by never updating. So this shall be my first and last chapter story. From now on, it's one-shots. I hope you're not disappointed with the end – I know I should have put more focus on Gibbs, but I think it turned out alright. I couldn't do that without slowing the story down, see? Oh, and just to cover all my bases - I have nothing against gays or nudists. Gay people have a right to choose, and nudists, I believe, are extremely open-minded to let us walk around in odd, artificial skin, and appreciating thatsome others mayfeel uncomfortable watching them walk around without artificial skin. Have I said too much? Sorry. Anyway, thank you for reading! Thank you all! I'll miss this story, and I'll miss you! Bye! 


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